Europe – review

Every veteran rocker on a world tour keeps a cheat sheet of cultural references in the back pocket of his leather trousers. In Scotland, that usually means jokes about porridge. So when Europe singer Joey Tempest tips a wink to notorious tonic wine Buckfast and calls an amorous female "Mary Doll" (the missus of Rab C Nesbitt), there are gasps of glee as if he has performed a trick learned from Derren Brown.

Pandering to local fans in scattered territories is key to the revitalised Europe's current wave of success. The Swedish melodic-rock behemoths, who sold 20m records worldwide in the 1980s, re-formed in 2003 after a decade-long break and are now four albums into a rootsy reinvention. Their unmodified Tolkienesque brand remains a decent draw, and the choruses and strutting are just as big.

Amid the cocksure riffs of new tracks such as Riches to Rags and Firebox, there is a subtext, of sorts. It's most explicit in Not Supposed to Sing the Blues, a coming-of-age checklist of formative influences from Led Zeppelin to AC/DC that serves as a symposium on musical authenticity. It's matched to a throwback groove that slightly undermines the case being presented.

Tempest's personality and enthusiasm help bind together a set that spans disparate decades, from tinkly rock-ballad classic Carrie, to heads-down, Foo Fighters-esque thrasher The Beast. It's a professional performance, albeit one building towards a predetermined climax.

Some acts defined by a 25-year-old megahit might sabotage their albatross with a ruinous sonic reimagining. Not Europe, who rush headlong into The Final Countdown, Tempest punching the air with each burst of raspy synth brass. It rather overshadows the preceding 90 minutes, but suggests these Swedes have some time on the clock yet.

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